try this trick and spin it
I was Tyler Durden last night.
Somewhere in a black-sangria dreamland, I found myself standing at the window next to Marla. She and I were calmly watching everything explode.
It was a symphony of twisting, shivering steel. It was orange against black. It was beautiful.
I got into the tunnel yesterday afternoon for my weekly training and, due to a titch of a miscommunication with my coach about what I was working on, ended up doing backflying work. Despite the surprise and total lack of any briefing, I managed to figure it out and get bouncin' around. I didn't feel any impacts in the tunnel, but I noticed some funky bruising when I hopped out of the shower later that evening: a bloom of purple in the middle of my spine, and a spill of blue around one elbow.
Rubbing arnica into my arm before drifting off, surrounded by the rosemary piquancy of the oil, I smiled to myself. My body shifts and bruises and tightens around this cage of bones, and my heart grows bigger every day.
How will I stay here until February? It's like trying to hold a wave on the sand.